


Safe and Sound

by lydiamartinfreeman



Series: The Various Scenarios in Which Peter and MJ Share a Bed [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Flirting, BAMF Michelle Jones, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, MJ loves RBG, Michelle Jones Needs a Hug, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Movie Night, Nightmares, PeterMJ - Freeform, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie), Protective Peter Parker, Sharing a Bed, Shirtless Peter Parker, Sleepy MJ, Soft Peter Parker, Spideychelle, but they wont admit it, domestic-ish?, i still don't know how to tag, these fools are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 12:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19869979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lydiamartinfreeman/pseuds/lydiamartinfreeman
Summary: Ned bails on movie night with Peter and MJ; slightly awkward flirting ensues.





	Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So this takes place in the awkward space between Homecoming and Far Frome Home where we don’t really get to see any development between Peter and MJ. Like... We went from Peter losing his shit over Liz to being into MJ?? MCU explain?? Like I can’t believe they never showed us all of the cute moments in between of these dorks bonding and becoming actual friends and Peter and Ned adopting MJ into their little group. WHERE ARE THE MAY & MJ MOMENTS MAN??? ANYWAY okay im done i promise pls enjoy and i hope you didnt read this terrible note if you did im so sorry
> 
> Beta'ed by the lovely @unordinarypenpal on tumblr

Slumped over at his desk and head propped up by an arm, Peter closed his eyes and groaned, feeling as if he had finally lost the ability to read. After a particularly long week of patrolling, he had hours of homework and studying to catch up on, and having grown restless, he was in desperate need of a break. At this point, the only thing keeping him from passing out on top of his textbooks was the knowledge that soon his friends would be joining him on his couch for their weekly movie marathon, and he would be free to relax.

Hearing his phone buzz from across the room, he practically leapt out of his chair, the distraction greatly welcomed. 

It was Ned.

_Hey soooo I’m not gonna be able to make it tonight_

_I totally forgot but I promised Betty I would come over to work on our project for chem_

_Sorry bro_

Upon reading his messages, Peter blanched, immediately moving to call his friend. After the second ring, he picked up.

“Peter?”

“NED! Ned. You can’t leave me tonight, man! I need you! It’s MJ! You can’t leave me alone with her, y-you know how I feel! I’m gonna be so awkward and I won’t even know what to say to-”

“Dude.” Ned cut him off. “You’ll be fine. Look, Betty’s here so I have to go. You can do this, you’re Spider-Man!”

With that, Ned had hung up, and Peter was left alone with his (frenzied) thoughts. Should he cancel and say he’s sick? What would MJ think of Ned not showing up? Would she think Peter had planned to get her alone? _Oh god_. Peter shook his head. It was going to be fine. He was going to be fine. It would just be two friends enjoying a quiet Friday night in, watching movies. That’s it. Totally platonic. Peter groaned. He was so screwed.

He was once again broken out of his thoughts, this time by a knock. _MJ_.

_Shit_.

Peter scrambled to hide his suit and anything else incriminating he had lying around, as having MJ learn of his arachnid alter ego by tripping over his very expensive suit would be incredibly unfortunate (and lame, like seriously, he could do way better than that).   
After making sure his suit was safely stowed away in the back of his closet, Peter ran to open the front door, his socks sliding across the hardwood floor.

The sight of MJ in cropped leggings and an oversized sweater left him breathless, fingertips buzzing. His eyes lingered on the slope of her collarbone, revealed by the neckline of her sweater as it hung off of her shoulder.

Peter jumped as MJ cleared her throat.

“You just gonna stand there or are you gonna let me in, loser?”

Cheeks burning, he stepped aside, closing his eyes as she toed off her shoes and breezed past him. The scent of honeysuckle and jasmine filled her wake.

By the time Peter had returned from the kitchen, popcorn in hand, MJ had already settled on the couch, hair free from its usual ponytail. Carefully, so as not to spill the popcorn, he dropped down on the opposite side of the couch and set the bowl on the coffee table. 

“So May’s out of town for the next few days so we can just watch whatever, and if we get hungry we can go-” Peter let out a surprised yelp as MJ slid her legs into his lap, not registering her snort of amusement. 

“What are you doing?!” Peter questioned, unsure of what else to do or say.

“Stretching my legs, duh.”

“O-okay. Um... Is this alright?” His eyebrows scrunched and lifted as he placed his hands on her fuzzy-socked feet, sliding them to her ankles. 

She just waved him off, but he could’ve sworn he’d heard an uptick in her heartbeat.

“What are we watching?” Before he could answer, she continued “And don’t say Star Wars. If I see one more lightsaber, I swear I’m going to implode.”

“Ned would’ve just rolled in his grave if he was dead, you know. You can’t ever let him hear you say that.”

MJ just rolled her eyes and reached for the remote to scroll through their options, adding “We’re not watching Star Trek either.”

“Fine, then we’re not watching any crime documentaries.” Peter said, lips quirking up into a smirk.

MJ flipped him off, and he let out a silent laugh, his hold on her ankles tightening almost imperceptibly. 

“Harry Potter marathon?” She offered, nudging his hip with her knee.

Peter smiled.

“You know I’ll never say no to that.”

* * *

About 15 minutes into _The Chamber of Secrets_ , he had started to rub small circles into her ankles with the pads of his thumbs. MJ said nothing as his hands slowly crept up her calves because they’d had gym earlier that day and she was sore from all of the running Coach Wilson had made them do. That was all. It wasn’t like she actually _enjoyed_ the feeling of his callused hands on her skin. It wasn’t like he was trying anything anyway. He had no idea what he was doing, eyes focused on Harry and Ron. It wasn’t until he’d pressed the tips of his fingers into the under-sides of her knees that she’d _shivered_. It was like her body was _trying_ to give her away. To an outsider, it would’ve looked like Peter had burned his hands with the way he pulled them away from her legs, his eyes the size of saucers. 

“Um. MJ, I-” He cleared his throat. “A-are you cold?” He stuttered out, cheeks flaming.

For her own sake, MJ lied, nodding her head. The reminder of Peter’s obliviousness when it came to the effect he had on her came as a relief. He quickly lifted her legs as he stood, taking extra care to set them down gently where he’d been sitting seconds ago, disappearing into the hallway that lead to his room.

He reappeared with what seemed to be a very soft blanket, and MJ felt something flutter deep within her. Even though he was an awkward loser, he was a very _sweet_ and _considerate_ awkward loser. But she would never tell him that.

As he walked back to the couch, she tracked him with her eyes up until she couldn’t. He stood behind her, and with a dramatic flourish, he’d unfurled the blanket over her body. MJ rolled her eyes as he jumped over the back of the couch, bouncing as his weight landed next to her. So close to her, in fact, that she could feel the heat radiating off of him. It didn’t help when he pulled the blanket over himself and _oh my god they were sharing a blanket_. She was really starting to wish she hadn’t worn her favorite RBG sweater. She waited for the moment he would scoot an acceptable distance away, during which she’d be able to cool down, but the moment never came.

* * *

By the time they’d made it halfway through _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ , Peter had given up on watching the movie. Every time something interesting happened on screen, his eyes would immediately dart to MJ’s face so he could observe and catalogue her different reactions. He’d noticed the way that every time she’d laugh or smile, a small dimple would appear on her cheek, and how whenever she frowned, a small line would wrinkle its way between her eyebrows. He was pretty sure that if he had only MJ to look at for the rest of his days, he’d die a happy man.

* * *

During the first competition scene in _The Goblet of Fire_ , MJ had drawn her legs up against her chest, no longer next to Peter’s on the coffee table. She tried to rest her chin on her knees in an attempt to focus. Alas, she was failing. Miserably. She could see Peter glancing over at her every so often, leaving her to wonder if she had something on her face. She checked; her face was popcorn free. Yet he still kept looking.

“Why do you keep staring at me?”

Peter nearly choked on his mouthful of popcorn.

“Whaaaat? I’m not stari-” She cut him off with a raised eyebrow. He should’ve known by now that she could see through his bullshit (including his red and blue secret, but that’s a story for another day). He sighed.

“I promise I’m not being creepy or anything like that, it’s just...” He trailed off, vaguely gesturing with the hand that was slung behind the couch. “You’re beautiful, okay?” He blurted out.

MJ blushed, having never been told that by anyone but her mother. The feminist in her wanted to comment on how beauty was a societal construct, and how she’d rather be complimented on something meaningful, but this was Peter. He meant what he said, and she knew that he respected her for more than her looks if his constant praises of her intelligence and wit were anything to go by. So instead, she thanked him with a small smile, sliding towards him until they were pressed together at the shoulder and hip, her legs making their way back into his lap.

* * *

Soon after Harry and Cedric had been transported to the graveyard, Peter felt a small weight settle onto his shoulder. Looking down, he saw MJ struggling to stay awake, eyes fluttering. Wrapping his arm around her back, he moved her head onto his chest so as to spare her neck from the awkward angle. MJ made no attempt to protest, not even when he dropped his chin to the top of her head.

Peter didn’t dare move, not even to finish off the popcorn, wanting to preserve the moment for as long as possible.

MJ’s hair had slowly been falling from her shoulder into her line of sight, and in a moment of boldness, he’d brushed it back behind her ear with his free hand. As he was pulling his hand away from her, her fingers had wrapped around his wrist, bringing his hand back to her hair. Contrary to what he believed to be possible, his feelings for her somehow grew in that moment, his heart and brain having turned to useless mush. He carded his fingers through her hair, lightly scratching at her scalp and pulling at her roots. He used his thumb to soothe circles into the delicate skin behind her ear, and the corners of his mouth pulled into a goofy grin as MJ let out a hum of contentment.

He didn’t pause or pull away for the duration of the film.

* * *

By the end of the introduction of _The Order of the Phoenix_ , MJ finally let sleep pull her under.

* * *

A couple minutes of listening-to-MJ’s-heartbeat-and-breathing later, Peter was sure she was asleep. Slowly, he slipped away from her, gently placing her head and legs back onto the couch, to clean up. He turned off the TV, put the remote back in its designated spot, emptied and washed the popcorn bowl, and even made sure the floor was clean. May would be proud, and of course the one time Peter actually cleaned, she wasn’t present to witness it. He would tell her about it anyway when she came back.

Now, it was time for the actual hard part. Deciding to leave the blanket over MJ, Peter maneuvered one arm under her knees and one to wrap delicately around her back. Praying she wouldn’t wake up, he lifted her and held her against his chest, making the short trek to his room. Stopping at the side of his bed, he leaned forward using the arm that was under her knees to pull his duvet back. He laid her down, checking that his pillow was under her head, before replacing the blanket that was already wrapped around her with his covers.

* * *

MJ was sure she was dreaming when she felt the ghost of his lips press against her forehead.

* * *

Blanket once again tucked under his arm as it had been hours ago, Peter walked back to his bed for the night. He shucked off his shirt, throwing it over the coffee table, before dropping to the couch and wrapping the blanket around himself. It smelled of her. Surrounded by her scent, sleep found him quickly.

* * *

She was seven years old again, hiding behind the slats of her closet door. All she heard was screaming. Screaming so loud, she thought the whole world might hear. Then came the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood. Her heartbeat was pounding in her ears, and she could feel the rush of blood through her veins. Her heart was pounding so fast she thought it would fly out of her chest, blurred vision not helped by the sight of her violently trembling hands. The screaming continued, two voices starting to blur into one, no longer distinguishable from each other. Flinching as a slammed door shook the frame of her apartment, the last thing she heard was the sound of her father’s car starting and peeling away from their driveway like nails on a chalkboard. Like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

With a gasp, she woke, haunted by the memory disguised as a nightmare.

* * *

Peter’s eyes opened, senses on high alert at the sound of pained gasping. _MJ_. Frantic, he sprang off of the couch and sprinted to his room, throwing the door open. What he found, though, wasn’t what he’d expected to see. She was sitting up, curled into a ball, heaving as tears ran down her face. He could see her entire body tremble from where he stood.

Slowly, he approached, so as not to startle her.

“MJ? What happened?”

She stayed silent, not acknowledging his presence.

He shuffled forward a little bit more, crouching down beside the bed. After a few minutes, he tried again, voice softer than before.

“MJ?”

Hearing her name, she blinked and turned to face Peter. He sucked in a sharp breath at the pain her eyes, rimmed with red, held. Tears continued to streak down her cheeks like silver, and he worked to wipe at them with his thumbs as they fell. He’d never seen her like this before, vulnerable, like an open wound. He had no idea what she’d been through, what or who could’ve done this to her. But he didn’t pry. Suddenly, she was reaching out for him, so he moved to sit on the bed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her face into his collar bone. He reciprocated the embrace, pulling her closer and into his lap, swaying and whispering in her ear that everything would be okay, she was safe, that it was just a bad dream. Once he felt her stop shaking, he started to pull away, grasping her hand, telling her that he would be right in the living room if she needed anything else. However, as he stood and turned to leave, MJ made a small noise of protest, gripping his hand tighter, and he froze. Turning around, he heard her whisper.

“Stay.” She pleaded with him, moonlight cutting across her face. His eyes softened, her hand still grasping at his like a child’s. His heart ached and he longed to protect her from whatever it was that was doing this to her, whatever it was that had done this to the strong woman he knew.

“Please.” her voice broke halfway through the word, sounding so small, and Peter’s bottom lip quivered. 

“Y-yeah. Of course.” He rasped out. “I’ll always stay with you.”

Silently, MJ scooted to the other side of the bed, making room for Peter. He pushed back the covers and slid in, opening his arms for her once he was laying down. Averting her eyes, she curled into his left side, laying her head against his chest, tangling their legs together. With his left arm, he cradled the back of her neck and started to play with her hair, knowing it would help her relax as it had earlier, his right pulling her closer and rubbing the expanse of her back.

“Peter?” He resisted the urge to gasp at the sensation of her lips brushing against his chest.

“Yeah?”

“Stay until I fall asleep, okay?” she said, words muffled against his skin.

“Okay, I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” He whispered back, face buried in her soft curls.

“Peter?” She whispered again, focused on the steady beat of his heart.

“Y-e-ah?” He said again, the reply coming out choppy as MJ had started to run her fingertips over the lines of his bare abdomen, memorizing as much of him as she could.

“You smell nice.” She mumbled, already half asleep.

Peter exhaled and concentrated on wrapping himself around her even tighter so that the next words out of his mouth weren’t _I love you I love you I love you_.

“Go to sleep, Em. I’m here.”

* * *

MJ stirred as early morning sunlight warmed her face. Feeling a weight shift around her, she opened her eyes, squinting to adjust to the brightness surrounding her. Tilting her chin up, she found Peter already staring down at her, wearing an unreadable expression.

“Hey.” She breathed out, mouth suddenly feeling dry.

“Hi.” He replied, winding his index finger through one of her curls, giving it a small tug. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like the popcorn we had for dinner last night wasn’t very filling.” She deadpanned, barely concealing a small smile.

Chuckling, Peter eased his way out of the bed, pulling MJ up behind him. He lead her to his (May’s) kitchen, and upon entering, her stomach growled rather loudly. He turned to face her, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Utter a single word about this or the last 24 hours to Leeds and I _guarantee_ that you will die a slow and painful death.” She warned, eyes narrowing at his growing smirk. 

Not doubting her threat for a single second, he replied:

“So, how do you feel about pancakes?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you guys enjoyed this piece of the series! Let me know what you think and constructive criticism is always welcome. More to come soon!!
> 
> Hmu on tumblr @lydiamartinfreeman :)


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